


Sento

by LokisGirl



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Beer, M/M, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29047413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokisGirl/pseuds/LokisGirl
Summary: Duff and Izzy enjoy a trip to a Japanese bath house. Duff helps Izzy relax.
Relationships: Duff McKagan/Izzy Stradlin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Sento

I don't take baths. I'm too tall for most bathtubs, and if the point of taking a bath is to relax, sitting with your knees around your ears defeats the purpose. I like the idea of a bath, just not the practice. Then we went to Japan and everything changed.

I woke up, hungover and bleary from the Tokyo afterparty. I reached for the vodka on my bedside table. Taking a swig, I almost spat it out. Not vodka. Sake. Fuck it, when in Rome, right? I pulled myself together enough to drag myself to the bathroom. I'll feel better after a shower. 

A knock at the door distracts me from my destination. It's Izzy. He's always the first one up. I open the door, blinking at the light pouring in from the hallway. 

"Morning, man. Are you up for a hot soak? There's a traditional sento next door. It sounds great," Izzy's got on baggy shorts and a shirt from some blues bar in Berlin. His hair's flopping over a bandana. He looks like a puppy. 

"What the hell's a sento?" I wonder out loud.

"It's a traditional Japanese bath house. They have giant soaking tubs, showers, massages, all the amenities. It'll be relaxing," he explained.

"Okay," I decided to go along for the hell of it. I pulled on a pair of jeans that were so crusty they could have stood up on their own and a ripped up Damned shirt. I shoved my bare feet into my Converse and off we went. I saw no point in getting cleaned up to take a bath. 

The host took one look at the scruffy pair of us and recommended that we take one of the private soaking rooms on the second floor. We agreed, mostly because they said there was a bar in the room. I was bowled over when I saw the place. I'd been expecting a hot tub sort of thing. What it turned out to be was a still water pool, steam rising from the cleanest looking water I'd ever seen. It was easily ten feet across. I felt my shoulders creaking as my normally necessary slouch straightened itself out. Izzy locked the door behind us as I toed off my sneakers and immersed myself in the warm water. I lay on my back in the middle of the bath, stretched out with my arms straight over my head. I'd never been in this position in hot water in my life. God, it felt great. 

Izzy slipped into the pool. He sat by my head in the shallow water, sipping from a big can of Sapporo beer. I looked at it thirstily. "Open up," Izzy held the can over my face. I obligingly opened my mouth as wide as I could, and he poured beer down my throat.   
The cold of the beer must have shocked me. I choked. Sputtering, I sat up fast, my wet hair flopping forward to stick on my cheeks. My eyes squeezed shut, I spat out the beer. 

All over Izzy. He took a long swill, and fountained it right back at me. I jumped forward, grabbing him by the shoulders to push him under the water. He let go of the beer to protect himself, and it floated away. He took my arms, twisting around to get the upper hand. We struggled playfully. Izzy's knee slipped between my legs as he tried to pin me. Then his thigh was rubbing on my junk and we both froze, fingers twined together on one hand, my fingers on his chest, his other hand on my shoulder.

A long second passed as the atmosphere grew charged. Izzy didn't even blink. He kissed me like this was something we did every day, and the lightning struck. I kissed him back hard enough to seal our lips together and pulled him under the water. 

All the ambient noise of the sento disappeared. There was nothing under the water except the sound of our heartbeats. His tongue slipped into my mouth, feeling me from the inside. I could taste him, a little tang of weed and something that my brain couldn't name. We shared air under the water for what felt like an eternity before splashing back up into the real world. 

Izzy being six inches shorter than I am, he was at nipple height when we managed to right ourselves. He sank his incisors into my sensitive skin. I yelped and tried to push him away. My fingers slipped over his wet skin ineffectively. Flailing, I felt my knuckles hit the mosiac tile floor around the tub. The back of my hand dragged along the tiles until it came to rest alongside something wooden. Aha. A loofah on a stick! Now I had a weapon. Grabbing it by the handle, I brought it around, swatting at Izzy's back. He finally let go of my nipple trying to escape. 

I captured him, one long arm around his torso. Lifting him up so his ass was out of the water, I gave him a good hard swat. "Ow! That hurts!" he protested. I smacked him again. His angular features creased in a grimace. I kind of liked the way his eyes crinkled up in the corners. I hit him again. "Stop it! Stop it! I won't bite you again!" he promised.

I tossed the loofah away. Running my hand over his offended butt, I was surprised to find it was hot where I'd paddled him, and some skin had been abraded away. "Sorry, dude. I didn't realize I was hitting you that hard," I apologized. 

Dark hair hanging over his face, he looked at me through thick lashes glistening with water droplets. "You'll just have to come up with a way to make me feel better," he taunted. 

"Hmm, what makes Izzy feel better?" I asked myself aloud. "He takes refuge in smoking reefers, drinking beers, and what was the other one? Oh right. Blow jobs. We haven't got any weed because we're in fucking Japan. I can't make you feel better by drinking beer; that will just make ME feel better. I guess that leaves- what was the last one?" I teased. I stuck the tip of my tongue out like I was thinking hard. 

Iz didn't take the bait. Paddling over to the miraculously still floating beer, he hopped up on the edge of the bath. Taking a long sip from the sweating can, he lay back on his elbow. He swished the beer methodically, moving his jaw and lips exaggeratedly. He tipped his head back and swallowed. Watching his Adam's apple bob was mesmerizing, a whole different angle of physicality I'd never noticed before. I was so busy making mental porn out of his neck that it took me a minute to clue in on the fact that he was lazily and offhandedly stroking himself with his free hand. 

Jeff Isbell is the most laid back person you could ever meet. He doesn't waste movements. His economy of motion makes everything he does fluid and utterly graceful. He's got style for miles. I tried to copy the sensuous smooth travel of his hand and wrist. It wasn't nearly forceful enough for me. Watching him was better. 

He beckoned to me with the beer can. I filled my mouth with the lukewarm liquid. Getting on with the serious business of making Izzy feel better, I took as much of him between my lips as I could without having to swallow the beer. I used the Sapporo to great effect, swirling it around his head with my tongue, using it create extra sensations. The salt taste of him reminded me of earth, rooted and comfortable. He put his hands in my hair, pushing my head down. I was drooling warm beer all over him. Giving up, I sucked both the beer and Izzy down into my throat. My windpipe spasmed. I pulled back, afraid I might choke. I told myself to relax and went back at it.

Izzy left his hands on my head, but he stopped pushing. He started rubbing little circles through the fine hairs at the nape of my neck. It was both sexy and relaxing. I flicked my tongue around him and he cried out ferally. Izzy didn’t thrust his hips or pull my wet hair. He just made that odd noise like someone stepped on a cat and came what felt like buckets down my throat. I tried to swallow it all; failing, I wound up grinning goofily at him with spooge running down my chin. 

He took one look at the state of my face and lost it. Howling and holding his sides, he laughed until tears ran from his dark eyes. I kept my expression steady, and Izzy did exactly what he always did when he hit a giggling fit. Every time he glanced in my direction, he’d start again. It started to hurt as he hyperventilated, laying on his back, eyes closed. I dipped my head under the water, scrubbing at my chin. 

Izzy was right. It was relaxing.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted elsewhere 2014-ish


End file.
